Venificus
by Minato Namikaze
Summary: The story of a man experimented on by Necromancers. But, could it actually be as bad as it sounds. Especially when its the Necromancers who end up dying.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

**Imperial City-Prison District**

The hall is dark and silent, except for one large candle sitting upon a table housing two chairs, housing two guards. The guards sit stationed in the middle of the hall, in front of one specific cell.

"Why we here again?"

The guard's voice draws the attention of his partner. The one who spoke was, like him, an Imperial, but his voice was only sightly higher pitch because of age.

"We're here to watch over this guy-"

"Yeah, I already know _that_, but I don't know _why_."

The second man sighed looking back towards the cell. The man within was lying upon the ground, looking undeniably uncomfortable. He was wearing the standard prison get-up, and his pitch-black shoulder length hair was sprawled out around his head.

"...-Hey!"

Startled, the man turned back to his partner. "What?"

The younger man looked at him with squinted eyes. "You spaced out there for a moment. Whats the deal with this guy?"

The older man nodded once and turned his head to the cell again. "You hear about the accident that happened yesterday?"

The other man nodded also looking toward the cell. The man looked to be about 16, and still unconscious. "Yeah, a little. Arch-mage Travon found a hideout of Necromancers, right?" His eyes suddenly widened. "Are you saying that guy's a Necromancer!?"

The man's exclamation caught the attention of the only other prisoner in the high security cells division. He staggered from his bedroll, and creeped toward the cell door, eager to hear the conversation.

"Not... Exactly." The older guard continued, neither noticing they had a new audience. "We did find that kid at the hideout, but the wierd thing is... It seemed as if-, Well let me say it this way. When we got there, everyone but that guy was dead. Not just dead though, slaughtered. Missing body parts, eyes, hearts, brains, limbs. It was horrible. Fifty men and women massacred, and that man laying down in the middle of it all, not a scratch on him."

The younger man looked faintly discusted, and not a little quezey. "So he killed them? All of them?"

The older man nodded 'no'. He was silent for a moment then started again. "The wizards found out what happened by modifying a scrying spell to see into the past."

"They can do that...?" The younger man mummbled, and at the glare he recieved murmered, "Sorry."

"Anyway..." The Imperial continued, "What happened was, the Necromancers preformed a ritual. A ritual that killed themselves and, the body parts _flew into_ that guy."

The other guard looked to be seconds away from puking. Even so, as he looked at the prisoner on the floor, his eyebrows rose in confusion. "But he doesn't look...-"

"Like he has extra body parts? Yeah the Wizards were confused over that as well. It also confused them why the Necromancers would go and kill themselves preforming that ritual like that. They know it wasn't a mistake, because of what they saw in the scrying, so what? Was this guy their leader, who they gave their lives for? Or was he just the victim in an experiment?" The man shook his head, sighing.

After that the conversation died out. Each person lost in their thoughts.

**Imperial City-Arcane University**

All the Wizards with access to the university are gathered together at the underground research facility. Everyone, was formed into a giant seal formation. The strongest of the guild at the front, while the weakest to the back. It somewhat resembled a target, from an above look, with Arch-Mage Travon in the middle.

Travon sat upon a simple chair, in front of a simple table. Upon the table, sat a simple bowl, containing simply water.

The magic they were about to preform, though, was anything but simple.

"Remember people! Don't mess up the magic flow, or we all go up in flames!"

His speech had the desired results. Determined looks came upon all those around him. Nodding at their courage, he began.

"1st ring!"

(-)(-)

Unseen to two guards the prisoner's finger twitched, only seen by the criminal.

(-)(-)

The weakest magic users transfered all the magicka they could spare to the next ring of Wizards, who began storing it and adding their own magicka to it, ready for the signal.

Travon looked around and nodded.

"2nd ring!"

(-)(-)

The twitching stopped, only to be replaced by the mans hand clenching and unclenching gently.

(-)(-)

Pushing the magicka in the next ring, the 2nd ring fell back, exaushted, just like the 1st. The 3rd ring now held tremendous power, and like them passed it to the next ring upon the Arch-mage's call.

"3rd ring!"

(-)(-)

Along with the clenching hand, the mans eyes began to move under his eye lids, as if having a nightmare.

The second prisoner looked at the guards nervously. They still hadn't noticed.

Should he warn them.

A grin came upon his dark blueish skin, and his red eyes narrowed in amusement. Nah! Let them find out when its too late. He made to take careful, quiet steps back, ready to watch the show.

(-)(-)

Ring after ring transfered their ever growing power, coming closer and closer to the Arch-mage. Till finally only one ring and himself were left.

"Last!"

(-)(-)

The man's body was now being spasmodic as if having a seizure. And, as such movement is hard to miss, the guards saw.

"Shit!" the older cursed, turning toward the younger. "Go get a healer in here, NOW!"

He didn't see the younger man, as he turned back to the cell, but he heard him barrel up the stairs to his right, following his order. He quickly reached forward, taking the key from his side and putting in the key hole ready to turn it and help the prisoner.

I'm sorry to say we won't be hearing from that guard anymore.

His body was violently thrown back from the electric shock created from the wild magicka escaping from the man's body. The previously silent corridor was now filled with the man's screams, as his back arched, and his head was thrown back. It continued like this for several minutes.

(-)(-)

There was a sudden hush as Travon fell back, bringing the chair with him to the floor. The spell they had cast faded away, its job complete. The Arch-mage lay there upon the ground staring, star-struck.

"...By the Nine... What they've done..." His eyes closed, in prayer, or horror, or even simply weariness because of the spell, it is unsure.

"Raminus..." He called out still on the ground, eyes still closed. "Please contact the Emperor. I must tell him of what I've seen." Moments later he heard Raminus shuffle out of the room to fulfill his request. And as he shut the door, its slam seemed to start a sort of mob, as everyone rushed to help the Arch-mage.

(-)(-)

Yo, If ya like reading this, well, good for you. I'm just writing this to help clear out the writers block. Even so, I own most of the plots, except the original game plots, so don't steal them.


	2. Chapter 2

The sunlight streamed peacefully though the cell window of the Imperial City prison, catching on the face of a man with unruly, shoulder length black hair. The man's eyes blinked rapidly, and his blue eyes looked about, unsure.

Outside the door to his cell, a small crowd stood, staring back at him. One, a young women, looked from him to a man on her right, armored in the same ornate armor of 3/4th's her party.

"Well," she drawled, her brown eyebrow disappearing into her helmet, "Any idea what this prisoner is doing here? This cell is strictly off limits."

_Prisoner_? The man on the floor looked anything but amused. His hoarse throat gave groan/cough as he rose up off the ground. The redguard in armor looked on in confusion.

"I don't know capt.," he gave weakly, "There must of been a mix up in the guard..."

The Captain waved a hand dismissively. She turned her hard green gaze on the prisoner. "It doesn't matter," she declared, "We need to get the Emperor out of here."

The attention shifted to the third member of her party. The man stood about six feet or so, a bit above average height for a human, and was wearing expensive, ornate robes. He had white hair, and a face full of frown lines and wrinkles of old age. It was his eyes, though, that betrayed any appearance of weakness; his white-blue orbs held a fierce determination in them.

"Prisoner!" The Captain snapped, drawing his attention, "Stand against that wall-over by the window."

The prisoner held her gaze for a moment, and complied, albeit, away from the skeleton in the corner. Even as he turned back to the gate, it was being opened by the fourth and last member-an unremarkable man by all standards. As the door opened, the soldier came forward, stopping a few feet from him.

"Stay there prisoner." The soldier looked at the prisoner condescendingly, even though he was half a head and more shorter than the altmer. The Captain brushed past Soldier, coming to the wall by the skeleton. She counted the stones, and placed her hand on one, then looked back to the others. The redguard had used the keys to shut and lock the gate behind them, and the Emperor stood in the middle of the room, thoroughly looking out of place.

"We shouldn't shut this one behind us," Captain brought all eyes to her, "There's no way to open it from the other side." She looked at the Emperor for confirmation.

The old man looked to the prisoner, studying him.

"What's your name, son?" His voice was deep, and confident, but held a sorrow that left no place for arrogance.

The prisoner, too studied the old man, but for a shorter time.

"My name," his voice was deep, despite his high-elf lineage, "is Jack. Jackal Luciana."

"Hmm, an odd name for an altmer. Do you have imperial heritage?"

Jack nodded the affirmative, and after a pause, "Yes, my father."

The Emperor nodded, looking appeased. He turned to Captain. "I believe him trustworthy, Captain Renault. You may proceed."

Renault nodded and pressed in the stone. There was a deep rumbling, and a section of a wall swung inward, revealing a passage leading down.

"Alright," she started, "We need to hurry, there's no telling how much time we have left." With that, the four descended into the passage.

Left alone, Jack looked around, at the cell, then into the dark of the tunnel.

Decision made, he descended.

* * *

The emperor watched solemly, as Captain Renault was struck down, and his blades struggled with their lives.

'So many lives lost this day... Is this your plan, Akatosh?'

The man who took Faye Renault's life turned to him, rage burning in his dark brown eyes. The assassin started forward, intent on taking his life.

'Is this the end?'

Whatever anyone might have told him, Uriel Septom knew the truth in his heart; at that moment, the gods whispered _NO_.

The assassin, a servant of Dagon, was nearly three feet from his self when it happened. The assassin looked away, for just a moment, when a bright light struck his face, blinding him. Uriel took the chance, jabbing out with his sword, between the tip of the cuirass and the bottom of the helmet, into the assassin's neck; he was dead instantly.

The ex-prisoner stood resolute behind him, a single fur gauntlet clad hand held out; a remnant of his spell. Jack didn't speak, but gave Uriel a single nod. He waved his hand, a spark lit the air, and the sister gauntlet fell into into his hand. He fastened it on as he walked next to the emperor. They watched as the two blades teamed up against the last assassin.

The emperor seemed, to Jack, to sag a bit, his shoulders rolling. He shethed his sword, clicking it into place. Uriel looked down, at his would be killer, and sighed.

"Another unnecessary death."

Jack set his gaze downward. "At least they died for their god."

Uriel's eye's narrowed, but he nodded. "I suppose that's all a man could ask for."

A clang followed by silence marked the end of the battle. The redguard walked up to them, his face solemn. "Sire, the Captain..."

Uriel held up a hand, closing his eyes. The emperor of Tamriel's age was showing acutely. "Yes... Yes, I know. Let's move on."

* * *

Jack was left in silence, surrounded by dead, in the dark, as the wooden door forward slammed shut, and locked.

"Well, shit," pretty much summed it up.

The assassin next to feet was staring up at him with blank eyes too.

"Riiiiight, that's not creepy at all."

Bending down, Jack searched the body, and found a couple potions, but nothing else. Setting them down, he gazed at the body. The tell tale purple hue of a soul was fading rapidly, and soon enough disappeared. Jack placed his hand upon the body, and sparks danced around his fingers. The magic wasn't obvious at first, but soon the body, even the clothes, were falling apart, breaking into dust, and floating in the air. Even as he turned to the other bodies, the dust followed him and seeped into his own body.

Jack shivered, hands against his forearms.

"Always a bit chilly, that..."

Repeating the process, and finding another two potions on the fourth, last assassin Jack turned to the late Captain; and stopped short.

The purple mist of her soul was slowly fading, true, but it was still bright- she was still alive.

He crouched, cautiously, next to her. He slipped his hand under her helmet, to her throat.

'Her pulse is weak, but she's still breathing.'

He took back his hand, and his gaze lowered to the gash in her side.

'Oh, ouch. Went in her ribcage. From the angle... I'd say her right lung was pierced.'

"Oh, dear..." He continued out loud, resting his chin upon his hand, "You don't have much longer girl..."

"Hmm... Hmm..." He rocked forward and back gently, "Choices, choices, choices. Life or death, to be or not to be. I could heal you, but then I would be empty of Magicka. Those damn, magicka sucking cuffs saw to that. Or I could let you die, and blast me a door outa here."

There was a second of silence, where his very own words echoed off the stone walls.

... _let you die_...

"Tch, damn," His hands emitted a bright green glow as they rested over the women's wound. Her soul, which had nearly reached transparent, brightened immediately. "At least mother can't nag at me for _this_."

It was nearly an hour later when the healing was finished.

'Well close enough to last her till I get some herbs, at least."

Her armor was gone, piled a couple feet away, and she was sleeping peacefully, her stomach and chest rapped in his homemade bandages. Leaving her katana next to her as a comfort should she wake, he turned to the wall behind which a couple rats sniffed curiously. A spark lit the air once more, and the comforting weight of his broad sword met his hand. Jack smiled ruefully, feeling the last of his magicka leave him. Ready, he kicked a pebble through a hole, his leather boot scuffling against the floor. One rat gave a sudden screech, and began attacking the loose bricks, sending them rolling.

Jack looked up the small staircase at Renault's sleeping form. "I'll be back. I'm gonna catch some food."

The last stone hit the floor, and the rat standing in the gaping hole paused, its whiskers twitching.

Jack grinned visiously at it.

Suddenly it wasn't so angry.

* * *

The cracked stone ceiling of the secret passage was by far the strangest roof she had every woken to. She must of layed there for nearly an hour, just staring. She knew deep down, that she failed her Grandfather.

She remembered, the stories he told her. The tales of his adventures as a guard of the last Emperor. The way he saved the Emperor from a ambush, by taking arrows to the leg and arm, crippling both in the process. He was awarded with the highest honnors, and given enough money to live happily for the rest of his thirty-two years. His stories carved themselves into her heart. The words, into her head, her soul. She made a promise to him, on his deathbed. That see would become Captain of the Emperor's guard. That if the time came she would give her life if need be. That she would make him proud, no matter what.

He smiled at her, and told her to never give in, and do what made her happy. And then he went to the Divines.

She liked her job as guard.

She failed her grandfather.

Footsteps echoed through the room, and she jerked her head aside, hiding the tears that wet her face.

Jack walked up the stairs, a great log upon his shoulder. He gave her a passing look and threw down the wood nearly the length of two men. Faye nearly jumped at the thundering echo reverberating across the stone room. He bent, pulling a rusted iron waraxe from the bag at his waist and within moments was making short work of the wood. Faye dried her eyes and watched as he was already setting aside several pieces of wood, each a foot or so long. With a few final strikes, he pulled away a stump of the wood and set it up. Probably to use as a seat, she thought.

Jack moved closer to her, sitting the logs in a vauge triangle fashion near her. He pulled the stump over as well, picked up a loose stone and sat down. The ex-prisioner started striking the side of the stone with his axe, sending sparks toward the logs.

"That was quick."

Her voice gave him pause. He looked up, out of the corner of his eye at her, and grinned.

"Awake huh?" He leaned forward on his knees, turning to her. "Damn well took your time too." He gave no indication of telling her of his show of strength. "How's your wound?"

She glanced down at her chest, naked except for the bandages around her breasts and ribs.

"Its hurts," Faye deadpanned, "Is that my undershirt?" She nodded toward the bandages.

Jack moved from his seat to her side. He lightly rested his fingers on his left ribcage, where the tan cloth was tinted pink from blood.

"Yeah, I didn't have anything else to make bandages out of," clearly he didn't think to use his own clothes and not a lady's.

Faye's thoughts must of shown on her face, for Jack looked amused.

"What? You didn't think I would use these dirty prision clothes to dress your wound did you?"

Faye looked away, too proud to respond. Jack laughed, but looked down, and continued to lightly trace the wound, feeling for anything that didn't belong.

"It doesn't seem like it's infected," he mumbled, "but it will--"

"Where's my party?"

Jack didn't move away, but continued to stare at her wound.

She felt a twinge of pain at that. "They left me here. With a prisoner."

Jack sighed, closing his eyes. A hand come up, lightly rubbing his brow right above his black eyebrows.

"Well," he started, "yes and no."

His eyes cringed a bit, feeling her glare rather than seeing it.

"You were knocked unconscious during the fight, and they thought you dead and moved on."

Faye stared hard at him, her gaze untrustfull.

"And yet here you are, healing me?"

His hand stopped rubbing and pulled away. He opened his eyes, and pointed to one.

"I have enchantments on my body. One of which is life detect. They left me here to fend for myself, and so when I noticed your soul wasn't moving on..." He trailed off, gesturing at her wound.

Faye looked away for a moment, contemplating, then nodded and looked back to Jack; her stare a silent order to continue.

He pulled away a bit, to his stump, where he resumed making sparks. After a few seconds he began again.

"When some rats knocked away some loose stones, I found a path around the locked door. That was several hours ago. I killed some animals, and some goblins, found some stuff," He rose the waraxe in emphasis, and nodded to the bag held by a shoulder strap on his right hip. "After a while, I found them. The Emperor and one of the guards were dead, surrounded by the bodies of assassins. I saw the redguard head down a sewer manhole with that big red necklace in hand."

Faye had already looked away. Her heart filled with grief over her assured loss, barely moved by the good news of Baurus' life, and the safety of the King's Amulet. There were no more heirs, so what was the point? Jack gave a small cry of success, and the small cackling of a fire filled the air.

They sat in silence for a long time, neither saying anything, Jack staring into the fire, Faye lost in sorrow. It was only when Faye's eyelids began drooping that Jack spoke up.

"Before you sleep," he called gently, reaching into his bag and pulling out a vial, "drink this. It will help your wound heal."

Faye obeyed, silently chugging the potion in one go. There was a moment when Jack's blue gaze met her green one, and then she knew nothing.

* * *

Faye was greeted by the darkness of the secret passage as she awoke. The fire still burned, if faintly, and there was still an oppressive silence. Faye pulled herself up, nursing her side, till she sat with her back against the wall. Jack was on the other side of the fire, sleeping soundlessly.

That was the man who saved her life. A prisioner she had passed while escorting the Emperor. Truely, she thought, if nothing else, _this_ proved the gods had a cruel sense of humor.

'I wonder what crime he committed,' she thought as she stared over the fire at his sleeping form.

His hair had a natural look to it, like he gave no special style to it, and the black locks stopped at his shoulders. A stubble of hair grew on his chin, as well as his cheeks. He still wore the shirt the prison supplied, the faded blue cloth better resembled a sack than a shirt. The pants weren't much better, with holes all along them of varying sizes. The rest of his belongings looked to be much better.

The leather boots upon his feet were finely made, the dark red material was adorned with designs, swirls and lines; it looked as if it was lined with gold as well. The gauntlets looked a bit out of place, but still looked to be high quality. The fur was dark and long, and in the firelight it gave off a faint sheen. The sword at his side gave her pause.

A quick glance assured that her own sword still lay at her side. It was only a minor relief though, as she doubted that she could fight him off should he decide to kill her... or worse. Though, she thought, he hadn't done anything so far, even while she slept.

She pulled her gaze up to his sword lying within reach of his sleeping form. Of everything he had, she nearly thought aloud, the sword had to be the best. If Faye was honest, she was a bit of a sword enthusiast. She had been ever since her grandfather let her hold his sword as a child. This sword was a claymore, far larger than her own katana, and had to weigh five times more as well. The claymore's hilt was wrapped with honey colored leather so tight, it looked as if it could be wood. The guard differed from normal swords; it was pointed downward for one, and it was also curved, so it spiraled down a finger length or so along the hilt. It looked like it was ebony, with the golden designs, and the dark blue hue of the blade; just barely seen at the top of the sheath.

She'd have to ask him where he got them when he woke up.

Hours later, Faye started, waking from her nap. Jack was over her, looking at her naked wound; the bandages piled next to him. His fingers traced around the laceration, now a scar.

"Potion's worked."

Faye nodded distractedly, rubbing the crick in her neck. That was the last time she would sleep sitting up.

"Here," Jack spoke up again, passing her the bandages, "Wrap those on quickly. You don't have the key for the prison, so we need to go forward, through the sewers, like the Redguard."

"Baurus," She corrected him as he threw a heavy stone over the campfire, smothering it. She fumbled with the bandages, embarresed with her nakedness, and glared at him for ordering her around. "Couldn't you just blow us a hole or something with your magic?"

The ex-prisoner gave a negitive. "No, I was born under the sign of the Atronach, so even after sleeping I haven't regained the magic lost to those magic-draining cuffs prisoners ware. I was only just able to summon these," he gestured to his hands, feet and his sword, "and heal you. Untill I find the ingredents for the potion, we'll have to make do with the enchantments on me."

Well, Faye thought as she finished wrapping the bandages, that answered the appearence of the higher quality items. Jack finished with prepairing, strapping his sword on his back, and throwing the bag over his shoulder; after filling it with a couple potions, a small number of plants, a mortle and pestle, the waraxe, and some cooked meet, wrapped in the hide of the animal it came from.

"We can eat on the way." As he spoke, he moved to a pile of cloth and armor near her-her armor she realized. He picked up the heavy wool shirt, giving it to her, but putting away the armor in his bag. He glanced at her. "The armor will just slow you down with your wound."

She nodded, reluctenly, but made sure to grab her sword after pulling on the blue wool shirt. Jack stepped down from the ledge of the raised stone platform their make shift camp had been made, and he turned to her.

"It will take an hour or two to make it to the sewers. Everything should be dead but you can't be too carefull, so keep an eye out, alright?"

Faye nodded, moved to the edge, and accpeted his hand helping her down, with only a sting of pain on her left.

A few minutes of travaling through the cave passed before Jack broke the silence.

"You know, I never asked your name. You know mine."

Faye nodded, "My names Faye Renault, Captian of-" She paused, and swallowed hard, "Well, ex-Captain of the Emperor's personal guard, since there's no longer an Emperor to guard."

The half elf nodded as well. "Thats true. What will you do now though? Are you out of a job or...?"

She frowned at that. She let a few minutes of silence pass as she thought.

"Yeah," She finally got out, "I don't think I can show my face to the Grandmaster after this failure. I don't know what I'll do."

They walked silently for a while after that, both somber as the topic.

"What about you?" Faye chose to start again, "How'd you end up in jail?"

Jack groaned a bit, rubbing his head and laughing. "Well, I don't really know."

Faye's eyebrow rose. "Oh?"

The man nodded, droping his hand. "Well I remember being on the Silver Road heading toward Bruma, you see I inherited this big place in the mountains just east of the city, and then somewhere along the trip some bandits tried to rob me. I don't remember anything after that though. Maybe I ruffed 'em up too much and a passing rider thought _I_ was robbing _them_."

She laughed at that, and she felt a little of the tension between them lossen.

Jack went on. "Well, either way, when we get out of here, I'll need to head up there. The stuff I sent ahead should already be there, so after I get that set up I plan on heading over to Bruma to join the mages guild."

Faye nodded, a bit impressed. "Sounds like a plan." Even getting thrown in jail didn't throw off this man from his plans. She wished the same could be said for her.

After a bit, Jack asked a question out of the blue.

"Faye, do you have a house?"

The Imperial looked at him strangely. "No I don't. I always lived at the barracks-" It finally dawned on her. The barracks, a place she had lived in for the last four years, the place she wouldn't be welcome in anymore.

Jack nodded, expecting the distress that showed on her face. "Well," he started, stopped, and started again."Like I said, I inherited a big place; its got its own herb garden, and I plan on making a another for food, and with the enchantments built into the tower, that makes food and water not a problem. Its heated by the enchantments too, and has a nice bath. Theres another three bedrooms besides the master as well. So, really, since you need a place to live you can stay with me till you have everything worked out, if you want to."

Faye lifted her head up to Jack, who wouldn't turn to meet her eyes. He was offering her a room at his place? But why? She searched his face for answeres, taking in the emotions on his face, and in his words.

It hit her.

"You're lonely!"

Jack nodded a bit, sheepishly, still looking away. Faye turned away as well, thoughts of her future going through her head. She had no home. Her family was dead. She failed her comrads. She was injured and was not likely to survive any bandits. Did she really have _anything_ to lose?

No. She didn't.

"Sure," She said with a smile, "That sounds good..." She smiled ruefully, "Sounds like a plan."


End file.
